


Raise the Black Flag

by ravenously



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Snowpiercer (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Pining, Pirate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:02:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenously/pseuds/ravenously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is taken aboard the Snowpiercer herself, a fearsome pirate ship that travels the seas of the Caribbean and the Atlantic. A seasoned pirate himself, Bucky gladly takes the job offering; and with it, the chance to understand the Snowpiercer's Good Captain Everett.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise the Black Flag

For someone so menacing from a distance, the good Captain Everett looked surprisingly small while he ate. Picky, in an almost eccentric way, but by the way the crew paid no mind- past the occasional eye roll from his first mate, Edgar- it was obviously the norm.

In fact, the plates of all the men and women on board was peculiar.

No, instead of the plates of dried and tough beef, bread and cheeses- of which Bucky was accustomed to, both on the ships of pirates and those of the British sailors- every plate seemed to have fresh meat, fresher bread (with no weevils infested throughout) paired with cheeses, and some sort of fruit of vegetable. It was odd enough that it made Bucky stare as one of the women took bite from half of some sort of large, juicy and orange-colored fruit that Bucky didn’t know the name of. Would these fruits not harbor the plague within them? Weren’t they scared?

That would be odd enough, but for the captain himself to have all these items, minus the beef? It was almost like he was eating a salmagundi- minus the meat and fish involved, plus large quantities of fruits. It confused Bucky to no end. And considering he was practically a prisoner, there was nothing else to pay attention to without opening up conversation that he’d rather not have.

Bucky took a long slosh of beer to wash down the thick, cloying taste of the cheese, and once again was struck surprised to see that the captain drank only tea, instead of the rum and beer that the other so gleefully drink. 

The crew kept giving him queer looks, whenever he cast a strange look to the Captain, but what else was he to do? 

Bucky had seen no man ever turn down meat, before. It was nearly a sign of status; if you were rich enough to afford even the worst end of a neck of mutton, it was prudent to take advantage. And for men and women who clearly were on the sea for far too long, fresh red meat (and perhaps other kinds, too, as some of the plates looked less like beef and more like fowl) was hard to come by. The beef wasn’t spoiled, either, ruling out that line of thinking for the Captain to forgo the taste; the other crew members took great pains to devour into the beef; hell, Bucky almost moaned the second the flavor hit his tongue. 

He, by all rights, had never been rich enough to afford meat often enough. Especially out at sea.

“Does he just not eat it, then?” He leaned over to Edgar, trying to be at least a little sly. Perhaps asking the loudest of the men on board wasn’t the best idea, considering Edgar started laughing immediately, rambunctious as he took a swig of beer. 

“Nah, he hates the stuff. Odd, ‘innit? But there ain’t no convincing him otherwise.” Edgar punctuated this with a stab into a cut of meat, shoving it in his mouth and shrugging dramatically. Bucky could easily see the man prancing about on the stages of London, dramatizing his voice to read out Shakespeare. 

“And the fruit? Aint’cha afraid of it makin’ you ill? Seems an awful lot like your lot are playing luck with the elements here.” 

Edgar gave another hearty laugh and speared a piece of one of those orange fruits, waggling it in Bucky’s face. “Makes us healthier, y’know. Half the crew’us sick before Curtis came ‘round and implemented diet changes. They’re good for ya.” He took the piece back and shoved it in his own mouth. 

After a moment, Bucky picked up a piece delicately, slowly putting it in his mouth and chewing. There was a burst of juicy flavor, all wrapped up in such a soft and smooth texture. There was almost natural sugars and sweetness placed throughout, and he couldn’t help but give a soft- but noticeable- sound of pleasure. 

It even made the Captain look up, smiling more with his eyes than with his mouth. “Never had a mango before, I take it?” At Bucky’s solemn shake of the head, the smallest and barest of smiles cross the Captain’s face, as though he were amused to no end. 

“They’re good. Good for ya, too.” And indeed, for a seafaring captain, Curtis looked far healthier than even the British officers Bucky had seen in his day. Healthy skin, strong teeth, and the bags beneath his eyes looked more from traditional reasons rather than sickness. Bucky speared another piece and shoved it in his mouth. 

“You often have such fresh meals aboard here?” He asked, not bothering to chew politely. He was with pirates, his own people, not the pomp and primpy British elite. 

“At least once a week. Gets a bit strangled when we’re out on the open seas, but I do my best. Some’a these fruits and ingredients last quite a bit if you got the means to keep ‘em fresh.”

Bucky hummed and looked at him, then the rest of the crew. “Well, y’look the healthiest of any ship I’ve been on. So y’clearly got something right.”

The smile was back in the Captain’s eyes. “You’re welcome to stay.” He said slowly, like it was obvious, and then he went back to eating.

Maybe he’d gotten it wrong- Maybe he wasn’t a prisoner, here. Surely, it made sense, considering the majority of the British officers and crew from the ship Bucky came from- A prisoner of his own right on that one, too- were now dead and sinking to the bottom of the Atlantic. And of the survivors, he was the only one granted a place at the dinner table, with the crew. 

Perhaps it was just that obvious that he wasn’t someone working for the Benevolent Government. 

As dinner dwindled down, people started to leave for bed, or perhaps card games with their mates. It was a very casual, easy-going affair, much less tense than Bucky would have expected. And then, the Captain stood up, and beckoned for both Edgar and Bucky to follow him. 

Bucky stood and put his hat back on his head, and after a moment’s hesitation, he followed Curtis and Edgar back beyond the dining hall, through a surprisingly plain set of doors that clearly led to the Captain’s private quarters. Considering Bucky had already seen Edgar’s ornate and wealthy quarters, as the second in command had brought him there to explain in no uncertain rules what Bucky could and couldn’t do aboard the Snowpiercer, it was all the more surprising. 

It wasn’t smaller than Edgar’s quarters, but it was a lot less extravagant. Cluttered only around a few small tables, but other than that, cleaner and less filled with the controlled chaos that other pirate ships seemed to almost always command. 

Curtis sat down at what seemed to be his main study, took his hat off, and promptly lit a clay pipe, giving a soft and satisfied sigh as soon as he let a stream of tobacco smoke billow out of his mouth. 

Bucky waited patiently. 

Eventually, Curtis leaned back in his seat and looked up at Bucky. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you aren’t with the Navy. Do You conduct piracy? Have a ship of yer own?” He gestured to an open seat, and after a second, Bucky tentatively sat down and removed his hat. 

“Nah, no ship to my own, sir. Had one, with, ah, Captain Rogers. But it’s been disbanded. Fell to the Navy. ‘S why y’found me aboard the damned Royal ship.”

Curtis hummed and tsked, and let out another plume of smoke. He seemed much more relaxed now that he was within his own quarters, like a weight had been lifted from him. “But y’are a pirate. Captain Rogers… I know that name.”

“Probably. Was in the business to clear out slave ships. And the occasional ship with money on it, just to piss’em off. Whole crew’us hung. ‘Cept Rogers. Fell to the sea.” He tried to say it all level and clear- No emotions. He couldn’t seem weak to the captain of a ship who had him under their thumb, and it wouldn’t do well to reveal how important Rogers was to him. 

And yet Everett seemed to know, anyways. He leaned forward, suddenly curious. There was almost a look of approval in his eyes. “They kept you from hanging.” 

“Was on my way. With the Captain dead, only hope they had to figurin’ out Rogers’ routes and tricks was with me. They’re persuasive.” And indeed, the bruises and cuts on his skin were hard to see now that he had proper clothes on again, but he could see Everett’s eyes glancing to his wrists and fingers, two of which were crooked and improperly set after a beating. 

“So you need better work, then? You was set to hang after you gave your secrets. Now you’re free.” 

“Free on your ship, sir.” And it had been yet discussed how free that truly made him. 

Bucky was surprised a moment later, when the thin look Everett had given him turned into a sharp bark of laughter. It seemed to surprise them both, in actuality, because Curtis gave him a curious, pondering look when he calmed down. As though Bucky had shocked him. 

He took another hit from his pipe, and said on the exhale, “You’ve more liberties than most on the sea.” He glanced around his desk until he found an appropriate map, beckoning for Bucky to come closer. “We c’n leave you at the next port.”

He was pointing to Nassau. A respectable place to bow out, to find a ship back- Well. There really was nowhere to go. And that was the problem. 

Everett claimed he was safe, free, full of liberty and a future, unlike most of the men facing the sea. But as true as that was, he had nothing to return to, nowhere to run. He could start a new ship, but his crew was dead, and there was no fun in it, no liberty and fortune, unless Rogers was there, to keep a tight moral background and a wit to the group that Bucky didn’t possess. 

There was no place back in Britain for him, nor in America. His ship was gone, and with it, the majority of his wealth. Sure, they’d hidden a few things in ports and hidden coves along the way, but where was the fun in searching it out if there was nowhere to-

“Or,” Curtis continued, pushing Bucky out of his internal, well, panic. He jabbed another finger to Nassau, then gestured to a few other, smaller ports, that were circled. “Or, you can continue with us. You’ll have room and board. Food. You say you liberated slave ships? We’ve done the same. I’d love to hear your methods.” His voice got oddly… Professional. Pompous. When he was talking business. It made Bucky curious about where the Good Captain Everett had come from. “I’d gladly have you aboard as one of my crew.”

Bucky blinked, and looked from the port to Everett and back again. He slowly nodded. There was really no other route for him, beyond throwing his lot and luck with some unknown ship that would sooner gut and kill him than give him lodgings. This ship, at least, had the morals and the drive that Bucky’s own ship had had. He offered his hand across the table. “I’ll stay, then, Captain.” 

Everett looked surprised at not only the bruising, but the previous scarring from where he’d nearly lost his arm. Everett’s own arm was scarred, too, the flesh red and inflamed. 

They shook, and once they pulled back, Everett offered his pipe to Bucky. While he took a slow and savory pull, the Captain said, almost happily, “Well, then, Barnes, welcome aboard the Snowpiercer. She’ll treat you nicely on these waters.”

\--

Despite the handshake, despite Bucky’s verbal affirmation that yes, he was going to stay with the crew, Captain Everett asked him once more when they reached the port of Nassau. 

Captain Everett was clearly a sea’s man through and through. He looked uncomfortable when they stepped off the ship, more than just the expected wobbles as one’s sense of gravity was changed. While he looked confident and tall upon his ship, on land seemed to shrink into himself just a little more. It wasn’t the crowd’s; no, he looked better whenever they were walking down a crowded marketplace or alleyway. 

No, it was though he didn’t quite know how to carry himself. As though his ship afforded him a freedom in his movements that land disqualified him from. 

He was still a foreboding character, though. 

Edgar had been left in charge of the other men and women; they were to sell and turn a profit on whatever cargo they’d brought. Were to carry out the trades for even better cargo. They’d left just after sunrise, and Bucky was up and read to leave with them, but the Captain had called him to his chambers and asked him to accompany him to the market. 

Bucky had been to many a market before, but it had always been with certain products in mind. Barrels of ale, provisions to keep them alive for the next few months. But Curtis’ particular tastes led them down winding aisles, tasting the various exotic fruits that they never would be able to buy back home. 

Wherever home was for Curtis. 

When it came to buy meats, he had Bucky taste and garner a response to everything; he refused to partake, and even gave Bucky the money to buy what he needed to stock the ship, while he himself wandered off. 

Bucky caught up with him a half an hour later, sitting among a gaggle of children who were eating mangos and papayas. Bucky sat down beside Curtis, handing over a receipt for the meats they’d get on board. The captain wiped a hand along his mouth, clearing the mango juice from his face. 

“They yours?” Bucky asked, smiling at one of the children, who was peering at him curiously. 

“They looked starved. Who’m I to deny the tots.” He offered Bucky the fruit, and Bucky took it after a moment, trying to hold back the pleased sound he wanted to make upon tasting the fruit. He handed it back swiftly, for fear of eating the entire thing himself.

He was smiling. Curtis always brought that out in him, especially as he slowly got to know him. And the worst offense to a man like Curtis was to insinuate that he was a good man. And so, Bucky took his hat from his head, placing it over his chest and said to the children, “Now, isn’t this the best Captain you’ve ever laid eyes upon?”

The children nodded and screeched out choruses of assent.

“A good man, indeed!” Bucky continued, and watched as Curtis’ face turned red, watched as he squirmed and tilted his hat down low so the children wouldn’t see his embarrassment. 

It made not only the kids squeal in laughter- for Bucky kept goading them on- but Bucky as well. This was a laughter not brought on by ale or rum, but just the sheer happiness of basking in a man’s proximity. 

Bucky was starting to realize he had made the best choice. Curtis held the same persona that Steve did. Not that they were that similar- Bucky didn’t know much about Curtis or his motivations. But the same bitter, hollowed out reasonings behind his actions called to Bucky. 

And unlike Steve, Curtis seemed afraid to smile from Bucky’s jokes. Which made Bucky want to try all the more. The good Captain stood and left his mango in the hands of one of the children, situated his hat once more, and began walking down the crowded road of the market. 

Bucky said a sharp goodbye to the children, pausing to ruffle the hair of one of the boys, before he ran after Curtis. 

“Did I offend you, sir?” He said, the second he caught up to the man. 

“No.” Curtis said, and, as though in an afterthought, “You just surprise me in ways no man has before.”

“...Ah. Well, I imagine if you keep me around long enough, I’ll cease to surprise you.” It was getting later- Perhaps the early evening, and Bucky pointed to one of the many taverns around, and Curtis nodded after a moment, steering the two of them that way. 

Curtis was quiet for some time, his face slowly losing the red sheen to it. Right before they entered the tavern, he said, almost too quiet for Bucky to catch, “I do hope you never cease to surprise me.” And then he was gone, going to the counter to order the two of them pints.

Bucky blinked, then went to secure them a table. 

The Captain was such a peculiar person; Bucky didn’t even know where to begin with him. Not that it was a bad thing. At least it gave Bucky’s life a little more purpose; he had someone to try and understand, to get closer to. Someone who already seemed to trust him. 

Everett returned and sat down beside him, pushing one of the pints to Bucky, who took to it gratefully. They drank happily in silence for a few moments, then Bucky wiped the head of the beer from his lips and said, “So, Good Captain, where to after Nassau?”

Curtis hummed and gave a slow look around the tavern. “I believe I need to pay my father a visit. He likes to patronize me once a year, and, so long as he does it under parley, I don’t mind.”

“..Is your father an important man?”

Curtis gave a knowing smile. “He’s a captain of his own right.”

“Of his own right? So what, he’s- Ah. Well, my friend! A father of the royal navy! You must be a riotous disappointment, eh?” Bucky let out a loud laugh, giving Curtis a strong pat on the back. 

Curtis didn’t laugh. But he didn’t look angry, either. Just bemused. “Yes. He thinks me some petty thief. I’m not even sure he knows I command a ship of my own. Or if he does, he underestimates me. I grant him one conversation once a year, so he doesn’t come searching me out.” 

“And it’s the time of the year, eh?”

“The time of the year for him to try and convince me to return to His Majesty’s royal blessings and be a good, proper Wilford.” 

Bucky snorted and raised his pint. “Well, we’ll have to make sure you stay to thievery and pillaging, eh? Wouldn’t do to have your pretty face in one of those godawful uniforms.”

Everett snorted and clanked his pint against Bucky’s, and they both drank. 

They sat and drank several pints among them, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Who they are, where they’re from. 

It became clear that Curtis’ diction came from a right proper upbringing, but his curiously vulgar words were evident whenever he was conscious of his voice. Like he was trying to hide the fact. Bucky couldn’t blame him- From Curtis’ less than forthcoming tales, he grew up with a captain as a father and a mother who’d gone off the hooks and hung herself. Spent a childhood being groomed to be a captain or higher in the navy. 

It took a bit of the mystery off of him and Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if he was privileged in this information being given to him. 

Bucky wouldn’t want to, but he’d have to admit he was quite sloshed by the time they were up and ready to leave. They stood. Their attention was divided from a sharp peal of laughter- a group of prostitutes were sitting in the corner, dressed up in a way to flaunt their curves. 

He elbowed Curtis. “You think they’d give ya a pretty show? For such a handsome guy as you? Y’look like ya need something to relax you.”

It was a joke; insensitive perhaps, but a joke nonetheless. Curtis didn’t seem the man to disrespect a woman, and yet the heavy shade of pink in Curtis’ face, and the way any emotion shut down immediately, made Bucky wonder if he’d made a serious mistake.   
He was equally surprised when Curtis turned tail and left the tavern without a word to Bucky, leaving him to throw a coin down for a tip and all but stumble from the tavern to follow. When he caught up to Curtis, all he could say was, “Did I offend, sir? I didn’t mean’ta.”

“No, you’re fine.” He sounded marginally sober than he had been minutes ago. He was standing tall and stiff once more. 

“Not a man o’pleasure? ‘S not a terrible thing.” Bucky said. He wished he could sober up quickly, himself. 

“You could put it like that.” Curtis said noncommittally. He seemed resigned to answer Bucky’s questions. He took his hat from his head, brushing the stray strands of hair behind his ears. Like he needed something to do. That done, he moved onto chewing his nails, a nasty habit for a man of labor like Curtis. 

“I-” Bucky paused, and then blurted, “You ain’t a sodomite, are ya?” What man of Curtis’ caliber denied even the idea of pleasure?

Curtis stopped walking altogether, and Bucky nearly walked into his back. He ticked his jaw and looked like he was about to say something, but Bucky didn’t let him. He wasn’t an obvious man, Curtis, but once you knew him, there were certain tells. He was trying to figure out how to lie. How to derail the conversation and turn it away from himself and onto someone else. If he knew any better (which he was certain he did), Curtis would turn and ask him if he were a sodomite in just a moment. 

So before he could say anything, Bucky clumsily pushed him into a side alley, away from the main street. “Wasn’ an insult, Captain. I swear t’it.” 

Curtis seemed at a loss for words. His face was pale in this lighting, the dark of his clothes and the alley meeting to bleed away anything but his face. It might be the drink making everything wavery, but Bucky’s vision narrowed to the shocked and unsure expression playing on Curtis’ face. 

“I’m no stranger to buggery, Captain. Y’know, I was jus’ curious, and I thin’ I got my answer, y’know?” He was rambling. He just didn’t want Curtis to deny him, to hate him and accuse him of slander. 

Curtis was silent for a moment longer, before he said, “Barnes, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re drunk as an emperor, gitt’off me and le’s go back to the ship. Now. This ain’t something you should be sayin’ out of nowhere, Barnes, this is-”

Bucky cut him off by ghosting a breath over his lips, pressing his to Everett’s slowly, softly. Maybe it was Curtis’ surprise, but his reaction implied he’d never done this. Or at least, never enjoyed it. Everett’s eyes widened bright, and he tried to pull away for a flat second, before he melted into Bucky. Bucky pushed him further against the wall of the bricks behind them, pressing his lips harder, trying to taste, trying to show Curtis that he didn’t mind if Curtis was well and indeed a sodomite after all. 

He could almost see the pink, swollen look of Curtis’ pink in the darkness when they pulled away, and it paired heavenly with the wide, blue eyes he had, like they were hewn from aquamarine and shoved inside the pirate’s head. A gory comparison, perhaps, but there was no other way such faceted beauty, even in shock and arousal, could appear on a mere mortal man. 

“Told ya it ain’t an insult.” Bucky said and swayed a little to keep upright. Curtis gulped and nodded, before pulling Bucky back a little, just enough so he could get out of his grip. 

“... Perhaps we should get back to the ship, Barnes.” Maybe he’d done something wrong. Curtis looked all the more stiff, all the more distant than he’d ever been before. But then he turned and gave Bucky a slow, hesitating smile, saying, “Perhaps we can continue this line of conversation within my quarters.” 

Bucky broke into a wild grin and hopped from the alleyway to all but sprint after Curtis, giving, for all intents and purposes, his immediate assent. 

 

\--

Paranoia began to creep up Bucky’s spine the closer they got to the harbor. It would be hard to hide the quietly excited flush on Curtis’ face, and nor could Bucky stop grinning in the way that anyone who’s held a fancy for someone knew. They weren’t exactly subtle.

But he need not worry; the ship was still largely empty, apart from the few crewmen who chose to stay behind for the day. And they didn’t dare bother the good Captain. The rest of the men and women were likely in taverns across the port, only unlike Curtis and Bucky, they’ve probably accepted the gaudily dressed women rampant in the taverns and the streets, or else anyone eager to experiment with a pirate. 

Especially among these harbors and coves? There were quite a few who wanted to experiment with the sea-hardened skin of a pirate. 

That was a facet that hardly phased Bucky anymore. Of course, there was something lovely about thick, muscled skin, compared to the soft bodies and curves of those who had never sailed a day. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if Curtis would be a mix of both, what with his noble birth. 

As soon as they retreated to Curtis’ quarters- the latter’s expression getting more and more unsure as they went along- Bucky took the monmouth cap from his head and tossed it to one of the few tables. It had surprised Bucky that he wore such a plain looking cap, especially considering he had been wearing a tricorn just the day before, but perhaps Curtis hadn’t wanted to reveal that he was indeed the captain of a ship. Or even a man of authority at all. 

While most pirates and seabearing souls Bucky had met would love to dress up and flaunt their stolen (or inherited, for the noble seamen) wealth with garish costumes and powdered heads, Curtis seemed to care only for a shirt on his back and a hardy boot to keep his feet steady. 

It was odd, but it was a welcome characteristic that Bucky appreciated about the Captain. It was humble.

Curtis looked like a fish out of water, wide eyed and gaping. It made Bucky smile, and he came closer and slowly took Curtis’ hand in his own, lifting it up to gently kiss the back of it. “Relax.” He murmured against the skin, and was pleased to see the jolt that seemed to run through Curtis at that. “Did you like the kiss earlier?” 

He glanced up through his lashes, just in time to see Curtis gulp and slowly nod. 

“Then let us do it some more, then. I won’ laugh at your inexperience, Curt. Promise. Jus’ gonna make you feel good.”

Bucky glanced around the room, searching for the bed. It was a small bed, compared to what a captain in Curtis’ caliber should have, perhaps, but it seemed to fit with Curtis’ general styles. He pulled Curtis closer, then spread his hands over his shoulders. 

He couldn’t help but feel pleased that he would be able to teach something to Curtis, rather than the other way around. He pushed the frock coat- plain and brown, but framing his body so so well, to the point that it was almost a shame to remove it at all- down his shoulders, and gave a pleased little noise when Curtis helped him remove the garment all the way. 

It fell to the floor with a soft sound, leaving him in only a ruffled undershirt, a cravat, and his boots, breeches and leggings. Bucky had almost hoped for something a little more extravagant (after all, he wasn’t one to stray away from the rich fabrics and embroidered frocks), but the plainness- earthiness- that Curtis showed, made much more sense. 

This was part of Curtis’ package. a well-to-do noble’s man shunned away from a previous life and living it, harshing it, as a free pirate. 

He untied the cravat from his neck, leaving Curtis bare and all the more plainer. He melted beneath Bucky when he began spreading fingers along the skin there. He was so tense; if Bucky could get him to melt and relax just an increment with his touches, it would be a job well done. 

His skin was soft and hardy all at once, not yet roughened from years at sea. It made Bucky shiver, and then shiver some more when he realized that Curtis was pushing his own coat off his shoulders. His was much more extravagant than Curtis’; it had a curling, embroidered motif to highlight the outline of his body, shining golds and silvers to contrast with the browns of the underlying fabric. 

Curtis paused and almost stepped back, but Bucky just grinned and took his undershirt off, stepping forward so that Curtis could touch him, see him. Ravish him. And that’s what he did; he looked too unsure with himself, but his eyes were eating Bucky up, and a hesitant hand stroking down the flat expanse of his stomach was all that Bucky needed to feel comforted that Curtis wanted this. 

He pushed forward into another kiss, and this one was far less hesitant than the one in the alleyway. Bucky pushed confidence and arousal and need into the movements of this kiss, his arms moving to stroke Curtis’ arms, his neck, his chest. Curtis gasped into each movement, each touch, his eyes snapped shut tight, as though he wanted to envision the scene in his head, craft his own romance into the act. 

Bucky let himself tip backwards, pulling Curtis with him, so that he fell on Curtis’ bed, with the captain laying over him, pinning him in place. Curtis’ eyes flew open, and a hungry look took over him, and all at once, the kissing took on a more fervent note as Curtis went from receiving to giving. 

Maybe he did have experience. Or maybe he had been thinking of this moment, with someone for a long time. Terribly dark and long night spent fantasizing secretly about the touch of a man, candlelit visions of seeing a body that would elicit tenderness, passion, love, rather than discomfort and apathy. 

Bucky worked on kicking his boots off, so that when he finally had the momentum to wrap his legs around Curtis’ midriff, it wasn’t with a heel shooting straight to the man’s belly. Curtis huffed and pushed forward, closer, his face flushed red with need and want. 

For all the enthusiasm, he clearly didn’t know what to do with all his limbs, but he was trying valiantly, and that effort was enough for Bucky to give a soft moan against Curtis’ lips. The moan turned into something of a higher tempo when Curtis realized that his hands had the ability to reach down Bucky’s breeches, and cup his slowly growing cock. 

Bucky arched into the touches immediately, panting against his lips, “Please, please… Keep going…” Curtis didn’t seem to know what to do, so hopefully he’d figure it out with the way Bucky’s body and voice was guiding him. 

Curtis’ kissing turned from his lips to kissing down his jaw, almost like he was going to swallow him whole. Bucky arched again when Curtis began to lick and suck hickies into his neck, down his chest. 

“Yes! Taste me, take me, take me!” Bucky murmured. It was almost embarrassing how heated he was at the moment; clearly Curtis elicited a response that almost no one, other than Steve, had managed before. It was heavenly. It was sinful, and perfect and- 

Curtis jumped back as though he’d been burned. His eyes were wild, and his hair, out of its braid, hung in his face in ragged strands. He looked terrified and feral, horrified.

He stepped back, and Bucky sat up a little in the bed, frowning. “What? What did I- What’s wrong?” 

“I- I don’t. I don’t deserve this.” He was almost shaking, his eyes darting from Bucky’s face to his bare chest, and up and back again. He did this for nearly a minute before he straightened suddenly, his face going stoic and harsh in the darkened room. 

“Curti-”

“Leave my quarters.”

“...What?”

“I said leave, Barnes, or might I have to teach you what respect is?” Whereas he normally tried to speak with a lilted and slurred diction, similar to the rest of his men and women, his voice was proper now; there was no doubt where the Good Captain Everett’s blood had come from. 

Everett brushed the hair from his face and stood straighter, patting down his shirt to make it look a little more formal, a little more respectable. He eyed Bucky down coldly until he got up off the bed. 

“You will tell no one of this night.” 

Embarrassingly, his cock was still erect, his breathing still ragged and forced. The want deep within the pit of his stomach was still there, and it was hard to look at Curtis without letting the inner passion of his breast climb out and act. He picked his shirt from the floor and tugged it back on, casting his eyes away from the icy, cruel ones that Curtis had. 

He could hardly think; he felt embarrassed and angry, aroused and scorned. And an unhappy look from Captain Everett was a fierce one. Bucky felt like he was a child once more under the thumb of the influential and broad gentlemen on the streets. 

He pulled his coat close and let his hat drop haphazardly upon his sweat-doused hair. “Curtis-”

“Tomorrow, I will need you to verify that the shipment of meats and breads are well and truly on their way. We cannot leave the harbor until we can feed my ship.” Curtis’ voice offered no rebuttal, no return to the previous conversation- or lack thereof. 

Bucky looked to him and gave a sharp nod, and prayed that his voice would stay firm. By the gift of either some heavenly force, or just anger spinning his movements, he gave a level, “Of course, Captain Everett” and left his quarters. 

He noticed that his hands were shaking when he returned to the much more modest quarters that the rest of the crew shared. He tried to stop them, wringing them ‘round each other for several minutes before it was clear his body just needed to relax in its own time. 

There was no telling what had just happened. Bucky wasn’t sure whether he had done something wrong, or Curtis had. Maybe Curtis had realized that he wasn’t a sodomite- In which case, Bucky could only hope not to be landed upon the gallows the next time they landed back in Britain. 

But- That didn’t seem to be the case. No, Curtis’ eyes weren’t horrified or disgusted at Bucky, or even at the sight and feeling of his body, in and of itself. And if the passion behind Curtis’ movements- both the harsh and needy ones upon his lips and cock, or the soft, almost worshipful glances and light touches along his chest- were to testify by, Curtis fancied a buggery, indeed. He craved Bucky’s body in every carnal way possible and there were no faults in the idea of two men together, at all. 

No, something internal had happened. And whereas Bucky thought he had known the Captain better; learning of his past, of his upbringing, it was clear he was wrong. Everett was still an enigma, and perhaps it didn’t need to be solved, but Bucky wanted it. Wanted to know Curtis. 

He couldn’t bear to ever have to see the cold, guarded look that Curtis cast him ever again. He’d have to- 

Well. Bucky wasn’t sure. But he wanted to be in Curtis’ graces once more. Wanted to understand him and know why he was denied tonight. No formal idea was evident in Bucky’s mind. 

He took his coat off and laid it on the foot of the bed, along with his hat. The bed wasn’t the most comfortable one he’d slept in, but then, nothing would ever be as comfortable as the spot he had sat upon in Curtis’ chambers, pinned down by strong hands and a needy, hungry look. 

With a sigh, Bucky turned on his side and tried to sleep. Better to be well-rested than to dwell. For he could dwell for the many days and nights they’d be at sea, alone in each other’s company and the sea.

**Author's Note:**

> Come catch me at [Tumblr](buckycurtis.tumblr.com) .


End file.
